by Adele Abbott
Typical! Just my luck. The competition was to win a year’s supply of custard creams, and it looked like I was going to miss out.
“Nice of you to show up.” Winky looked over the magazine he was reading. “I didn’t realise you’d decided to go part-time.”
I didn’t have the patience to deal with his impertinence, so I ignored him, and began to catch up with some paperwork—mostly bills.
Thirty minutes later, Winky was still engrossed in his magazine.
“What’s that you’re reading? A flyfishing magazine?”
“No.” He lifted it up so I could see the cover.
“Biscuit Barrel Monthly? How did you manage to get hold of a copy?”
“It’s not difficult when you know how.”
“Do you think I could borrow it when you’ve done reading it?”
“Of course. Just as soon as I’ve finished my entry for this competition.”
“Which competition?”
“To win a year’s supply of custard creams.”
“Since when did you like custard creams?”
“I don’t, but I figured I could sell them to you.”
“Sell them? After all the things I do for you?”
“You’re right. I’ll only charge you half price.”
I got up from my desk, and walked over to the sofa.
“If you don’t let me have that magazine so that I can enter the competition, you’ll never get another tin of salmon from me again.”
“Sheesh! Who gave you a sense of humour bypass? If you must know, I spent all yesterday trying to find this magazine just so you could enter the competition.” He passed it to me.
Now I felt bad. I’d obviously misjudged him. “I’m sorry, Winky. That was ungrateful of me.”
“I may find it in my heart to forgive you, but it’s going to cost you salmon for the rest of the week.”
“Okay.”
“Red not pink, obviously.”
“Obviously.”
***
The intercom buzzed.
“Jill, Mr Stone is here to see you. He doesn’t have an appointment.”
“That’s okay, Jules. Send him through, would you?”
Luther looked a thousand times better than he had the last time I’d seen him.
I went to greet him at the door, but he ignored my outstretched hand, and pulled me in for a hug.
“Thank you for saving my life, Jill.”
“You’re looking a lot better. Are you sure you should be up and about yet?”
“Yes. The hospital discharged me. I still feel a little weak, but it’s nothing. If you hadn’t come around when you did, I wouldn’t be here.”
“When I called your office, and they said you hadn’t turned in, I feared the worst.”
“How did you know?”
“When Robert Roberts came to see me, he was acting very strangely, and said some weird things. I didn’t think much about it at the time, but then there was that business with the letter, which I’d supposedly sent to you to cancel our arrangement. When I discovered that two of the people who had been poisoned were accountants, I immediately thought of him. I knew that if my suspicions were right, you would be on his list of targets. That’s why I called your office.”
“Well, thanks again, Jill. I most definitely owe you one.”
***
I was concerned about the twins and Cuppy C. The downturn in trade resulting from the ice maidens’ antics had hit their business hard. I expected them to be down in the dumps about the situation, but when I magicked myself over there, they were obviously in good humour.
“Hi, Jill.” Amber was all smiles.
“Hey there, Jill.” Pearl came skipping over.
“I didn’t think you two would be this chipper. Have you won the lottery?”
“We don’t have a lottery here in Candlefield,” Pearl said. “I think we should, but the Combined Sup Council always vetoes the idea.”
“They veto everything that’s fun.” Amber sighed.
“So, if it isn’t the lottery, why are you both so happy?”
“We’ve had a great idea!” Pearl was bursting with excitement.
“This is without doubt the best idea we’ve ever come up with.” Amber agreed.
Call me cynical, but whenever the twins had a good idea, I always feared the worst. “What kind of idea?”
“We were going to put an advert in The Candle to tell everyone that our prices were back to normal, but we weren’t sure that people would even notice it. We needed something much more exciting and eye-catching to advertise. Something that was guaranteed to bring the customers back in droves.”
“What have you dreamed up this time?”
“Actually, it wasn’t our idea. Perry and Simon came up with it.”
“Who are they?”
“Our new tenants.” Pearl gestured upstairs.
“You mean the Sweaty Boys?”
“Adrenaline! They suggested that they could put on a show right here in Cuppy C.”
“They? You mean their dance troupe?”
“Yeah! It’s a brilliant idea, don’t you think?”
There were many words to describe what I thought of the idea, but ‘brilliant’ wasn’t even on the list.
“There isn’t room in here for them to do their act.”
“That’s what we thought,” Pearl said. “But Perry said that they often do private functions in small rooms.”
“I’m really not sure their act is suitable for Cuppy C. It’s not exactly family friendly, is it? Don’t you think it might be too raunchy?”
“Perry says that they have a family friendly version of their routine where they don’t take off any of their clothes. They just dance.”
“I see. I still think your original idea of just informing people that the prices are back to normal is the way to go.”
“No way.” Amber shook her head. “This will have way more impact.”
“Yeah!” Pearl said. “People will be talking about this for ages.”
I didn’t doubt that for one moment.
***
Back in Washbridge, I went to the office to check if there was anything which required my attention. There had been no phone calls, and Winky was fast asleep, so I decided to finish early. After all, I had important business to attend to.
As soon as I got home, I took out the Biscuit Barrel Monthly magazine which Winky had so kindly acquired for me. I hadn’t wanted to complete the competition in the office because there were too many distractions. Likewise, I didn’t want to attempt it while Jack was there because I needed to give it my undivided attention. I had a couple of hours until the deadline for online entries.
It was one of those competitions which I hated. The ones where you have to finish off a sentence. In this case, it was: ‘Custard creams are the king of biscuits because...’
There were so many reasons I could have given, but I had to find just the right one. Something that would resonate with the publishers of Biscuit Barrel Monthly. An hour later, and I was still struggling to come up with the right words. And then, it came to me—the perfect wording: ‘Custard creams are the king of biscuits because they make me feel as though I can do magic.’
I logged onto the magazine’s website, entered the unique code from my copy of the magazine, and then submitted my entry. The winner would be notified by post two days later. I could almost taste those custard creams. Just think how much money I’d save over the course of a year.
Jack arrived home about an hour later. He looked fed up.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It’s just the same old politics. It gets me down sometimes. How about you? How was your day?”
“Okay. Kathy was back at work today.”
“How’s she doing?”
“I’m not really sure. I don’t think she should be back at work yet, but she’s had enough of just hanging around the house.”
“Has she heard any more from Riley
about the Lucinda affair?”
“I don’t think so. Do you think you could find out what’s going on with it?”
“I’ll ask around tomorrow, and see what I can find out.”
***
I couldn’t see the end of the corridor. It seemed to stretch out in front of me for miles and miles. There were no doors on either side. I picked up my pace, and began to run even faster, but didn’t seem to make any headway. Then at last, I came to a staircase. It was dark below, so I had to tread carefully. When I reached the bottom, a light illuminated the room. In front of me was a door. Instinctively, I knew there was something dangerous lurking inside; something evil. But I had no choice—I had to find out what was on the other side. I turned the handle, opened the door, and stepped inside.
“I’ve been waiting so long for you,” the man said.
The last time I’d seen this red-haired, red-bearded man, he’d been lying dead in a cupboard near to my office.
“Jill! Wake up!”
I opened my eyes to find Jack looking down at me, obviously concerned.
“Are you okay?”
“I think so.”
“You were having that nightmare again, weren’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“What was it about?”
“I wish I knew.”
Chapter 22
The next morning, I’d no sooner walked into my office than my mother appeared.
“Have you spoken to him, yet?”
“Spoken to who?”
She gave a deep sigh. “I asked if you’d speak to your father about the house. Did you forget?”
Totally.
“No, of course not. I’ve been really busy.”
“Too busy to find five minutes?”
“Sorry. I’ll do it today.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
After she’d disappeared, Winky came out from under the sofa. “I don’t know why you put yourself at everyone’s beck and call. If it isn’t your crazy grandmother or your sister, then it’s some ghost or other. You should put yourself first for a change.”
“You’re right, Winky. I’m always putting myself out for other people. It’s time I looked after number one.”
“Good for you. Now get me some salmon, would you?”
After I’d fed Winky, I decided I might as well speak to my father, because if I didn’t, I’d probably forget again.
“Dad! Are you there, Dad?”
I didn’t sense the chill which usually preceded his appearance, so I tried again. “Dad! Are you there?”
The temperature in the room dropped. He must have heard my call.
“Hello, Jill,” Blodwyn said. “Your dad is on the roof, replacing a tile. He asked me to see what you wanted.”
“This is a little awkward. I had a visit from my mother. She’s not very happy about you and my father moving into the same street as her.”
“To tell you the truth, neither am I. I told your dad that I didn’t think it was a good idea, but he said we wouldn’t find a better property for the money anywhere else.”
“Is property expensive in Ghost Town, then?”
“Incredibly. So many people are choosing to stop off in Ghost Town these days that demand outstrips supply. I can tell your dad what you said, if you like?”
“No, don’t bother. I think this is something that Mum and Dad will have to sort out between themselves. Anyway, it was nice to see you again, Blodwyn. How are you and my dad getting along?”
“Like a house on fire. Your father has a lot of stamina for a man of his age, if you know what I mean.” She grinned.
Way too much information.
***
My initial impression of Michael Gray had been that he wasn’t the kind of man who was capable of murder, but the fact that the poison used to kill Lucinda was found only in commercial laboratories was a strong pointer in his direction. The police must also have made that connection, but still appeared to have eliminated him from their enquiries. Still, I owed it to myself to have another chat with Mr Gray, to see if I could shake anything out of him. This time though, I wanted to do it without the use of magic. I was concerned that the Michael Gray I’d seen the first time might not be the real Michael Gray. Maybe he’d been so shocked by the magic that he’d come across as timider than he would normally have been.
Getting to see him wasn’t going to be easy, but I was determined that before the day was out, he and I would have had a conversation.
I turned up at the reception of Gemini Chemicals late morning.
“I’d like to see Mr Michael Gray, please.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No.”
“What’s your name, please?”
“Jill Gooder. He won’t know me, but if you could tell him it’s in connection with his ex-wife.”
The receptionist made a call, and I could tell from the half of the conversation that I could hear, that I wasn’t going to get an audience with Gray. While she was talking to him, I looked again at the large framed photograph, which dated back to when the business had first opened, ten years earlier. This time, I spotted a familiar face. The man standing next to Michael Gray had long hair. That same man looked very different today.
“I’m very sorry,” the receptionist said. “Mr Gray can’t see you.”
“That’s okay. I don’t need to speak to him now.”
I had a hunch, but before I could act upon it, I’d need to speak to Donna Proudlove again. This time, she took my call first time, and agreed to meet me in reception at Wool TV.
“Donna, thanks for seeing me.”
“That’s okay. I just hope you don’t still suspect me of killing Lucinda?”
“No. I’m now sure you didn’t have anything to do with it. I need a couple of favours from you. I’d like to take another look at the CCTV, but this time for the morning of the day that Lucinda was murdered.”
“Sure. I’ll take you there now.”
I followed her through to the security office where she set me up to view the tape for the day of the murder.
“You can leave me here, Donna. It might take me a while to go through this.”
“You said there were two things you needed from me?”
“Yeah. I wanted to ask you a question. You mentioned that Lucinda had got rid of a photographer.”
“That’s right. I still can’t remember his name. I just remember that he was bald.”
“Could it have been Shane Fairweather?”
“Yeah. That was him. She kicked him out about two months ago.”
I began to work my way through the tape. Twenty-five minutes in, I found what I was hoping for.
***
I made my way to Washbridge Studios where I tried the door, and rang the buzzer several times, but there was no reply. I could have used the ‘power’ spell to force my way inside, but that seemed a little heavy-handed, and I preferred not to leave any evidence that I’d been there in case my suspicions proved to be unfounded.
Underneath the window was a small aluminium grille. I checked to make sure there was no one around, and then shrank myself so I could climb through it. Once inside, I reversed the ‘shrink’ spell, and made my way through to the studio where I’d watched Callum’s photo shoot. There were two doors off the studio. The first one was a small dressing room. The second was obviously Shane Fairweather’s office which was something of a shambles. There were papers strewn all over his desk. I took a seat and began to sift through them. In only a matter of minutes, I’d established that his business was in a whole heap of trouble. His bank statements showed that he was overdrawn. There were several letters from suppliers demanding payment for overdue bills. Also on his desk was a folder marked ‘sales.’ Inside it were a number of printouts which showed his sales figures had plummeted dramatically about two months earlier. That would coincide with the time that Lucinda had ended his contract with Wool TV. It was quite apparent that Shane Fa
irweather’s business had depended heavily on the assignments he’d undertaken for Wool TV. Losing that account had had a devastating effect on his business.
At that precise moment, I heard the door open.
“Hello, Mr Fairweather.”
“What are you doing in here? Who let you in?”
“The door was open,” I lied.
“No it wasn’t! I locked it. Why are you here?”
“Did you really think you could get away with Lucinda’s murder?”
The shock registered on his face, but he quickly recovered. “What are you talking about?”
“You were caught on CCTV going into the Wool TV studios on the morning Lucinda died.”
“Is that it?” He sneered. “Is that the basis of your accusation? I went in there to pick up some of my things. I was only in there for a few minutes.”
“Long enough to inject poison into the bottle of water, and then plant the syringe in Kathy’s desk. You knew which bottle Lucinda would be drinking from, didn’t you? Isn’t it true that she always drank the same Blackstone Spa water?”
“How would I know?”
“You worked with her often enough, didn’t you? In fact, according to your own sales figures, your assignments at Wool TV made up almost fifty percent of your income. It must have come as a bitter blow when Lucinda decided to cancel your contract.”
“None of this proves anything.”
“You’re right, of course. Taken individually, none of this adds up to very much. But when you put it all together, it makes a fairly strong case against you. The mounting debts and overdraft—you were under a lot of pressure to recover the lost income. Is that what you and she were arguing about in this very studio? Had you asked her for a second chance? From what I hear, Lucinda wasn’t the kind of person to change her mind. When she refused to budge, you were left with no choice, were you? You had to find some way to recover that contract, didn’t you? What better way to do that than to get rid of Lucinda. Her successor may have been more receptive to continuing the relationship you’d had with the studio.”
“Anyone could have poisoned her. She’d made a lot of enemies.”